


of ravens and destinies

by blueling, wolfheart (blueling)



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fan Characters, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Multi, Original Cat Clans (Warriors), Other, Queer Themes, essentially a bunch of disaster gays just trying their best, featuring slight fantasy elements, while the world destroys itself around them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22982449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueling/pseuds/blueling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueling/pseuds/wolfheart
Summary: The dawn of a new era is rising over the Clans. Just as it always has, and just as destiny dictates it always will. Unless, that is, someone rises back to tell destiny to go sod itself.Alternatively: Warrior cats, but make it extra and gay.
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Some things that may or may not be important to note:  
> \- I have not read all the books. I've read up to Bluestar's Prophecy, forgot about the series for a decade and then decided to hop back in just to flip the whole boat upside down.  
> \- This story has slightly more fantastical elements than the original.  
> \- Cats may be described as frowning, smiling, laughing and emoting in other human-esque ways. Use your imagination!  
> \- The setting and Clans are all original. You may want to check [this](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1I0qjhHxQkQQOZWXZBYrPSfhKmKah1Q7UgTKcQj9wg_g/edit?usp=sharing) document out. You don't have to read it to follow the story, but you might want to take a quick look at the maps to get an idea of the layout and lands.  
> \- The first few chapters are going to be a set-up more than anything. Please bear with me.  
> \- [Here's](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/572825591825301530/676708931330113557/kaet.png) some art to tide you over. More coming soon.
> 
> Thank you for your interest. May you enjoy the ride!

* * *

_The spirits speak to me of greatness._

The pitch black sky surrounded him from all sides, curving around the horizon as though he were enclosed in the centre of a great sphere. His paws felt light, weightless, as if he were floating - but they were planted on a rippling surface, a pool of black mirroring the sky above.

But this was no place of darkness. A white dapple of stars illuminated every corner of that inky black; brilliant but gentle, soothing. Warm.

His gaze fellow upon another’s, a silver face with eyes lit up in a pale shade of blue. Every hair of the tom before him glittered at the tips, and the crescent mark across his chest shone white like the full moon. As he opened his mouth to speak, Dawnseeker heard his voice like a whispered melody on the breeze.

_The spirits speak to me of ruin._

Feeling another presence approach, Dawnseeker looked aside, where a calico she-cat met his eyes, the star-shaped mark across her shoulder glowing brightly.

_The spirits speak to me of betrayal._

The last of them stepped forward, a black tom of small body but tall spirit, the raindrop-shaped mark under his eye as aglow as the rest of them.

_The spirits speak to me of a hunt._

In silence they took in each other’s words. An eternity could have passed between them without any of them noticing. They stood still like ancient marble statues, the only movement the glittering of their fur and the stars. Yet for all their stillness, no sound came forth again. It seemed the sky had told them all that it would.

It was not until the stars by the horizon began to dim that the four cats stirred into movement once more.

_Let us wait and see._

The silver tabby shook his head.

_We must speak of this. Something is approaching._

More and more stars vanished around them, snuffed out in ever-growing waves of darkness. Dawnseeker nodded.

_Let us speak again in the Waking._

As the last of the stars flickered above them and the world grew hazy, the calico’s voice sounded faintly between them.

_Until the Council, then. May the spirits be with us all._

Then there were no more stars, and Dawnseeker followed the last of the light, drifting behind it slowly until he could hear the rustle of leaves and the chirping of blackbirds, and with the flutter of his eyelids, the world was whole before him again.


	2. BoneClan

* * *

_"Let all cats old enough_ to catch their own prey join here beneath the Deadtree for a Clan meeting."

Hardly a sound followed the call, but Lionstar knew they had heard him. Shadows moved in the dark, and soon enough cats flocked towards him with footfalls as silent as the stars themselves. The half-moon was high in the sky behind the golden tabby tom as he sat upon a thick branch of the leafless tree blackened with age in the centre of their camp.

His blue eyes swept over the cats coolly once they settled. “As you all might have heard, Cloudsky has safely given birth to her litter this morning. We have three new kits to welcome into the Clan.”

A murmur of whispers followed, but Lionstar continued in a loud voice. “You know as well as I do that BoneClan is hardly in a state to be raising kits right now. A kit’s first memory should not be of its own Clan after each other’s blood.”

Tension rippled between all the gathered cats now as they looked up at their leader with fierce expressions.

“I ask all of you to keep your conflicts _away_ from the nursery,” Lionstar said, voice bordering on a hiss. “I also ask of you to ease those conflicts. This in-fighting _must_ come to an end.”

“Not with those loners here!”

A few voices rose to agree with that proclamation.

“Be silent when your leader speaks!” A cream-furred she-cat rose to her feet, her pelt bristling in anger.

_“You_ shouldn’t even be here, traitor,” Rainclaw retorted, lips curled in disgust.

“What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me. Isn’t it time for your nap in the nursery, Flamefur?”

Flamefur bared her fangs and hissed at him, but before the argument could decline into an actual tussle, a great caterwaul stopped them all in their tracks.

“Enough!” Lionstar had leapt from the tree and landed squarely between the two, his large form easily blocking one from the other. Flamefur sat back, and after a moment Rainclaw did the same, though not without another snort.

“BoneClan has no loners, nor traitors! Every cat gathered here has proven their loyalty and earned their rightful place in the Clan,” Lionstar said, shooting a particularly vicious glare towards Rainclaw when the tom huffed in disbelief at his words. “I will hear no more of this. Not from you, Rainclaw, nor from any of you. Dismissed.”

The cats reluctantly slunk away at his words, though it was evident the tense atmosphere was nowhere near ready to let go of its hold over them.

“Flamefur, Willowleaf, I wish to speak with you,” Lionstar said before leading the way to his cave, pushing his way past the vines protecting the entrance.

The two she-cats followed him without a word, and as soon as all were inside they faced each other, all looking rather displeased in their own way.

“I don’t know how we can attend the next Gathering at this point,” Lionstar said, sounding tired. “I am ashamed of what BoneClan has come to.”

“I can see why they were concerned at first,” Willowleaf said in her thin, wispy voice. “But it has been three moons since the loners have joined. And they have been nothing but loyal.”

“We do tend to be set in our ways,” Lionstar admitted. “I didn’t think it’d be easy for them, but I didn’t expect _this_ level of hostility.” The tom’s eyes drifted towards his deputy, noticing she hadn’t spoken. “Flamefur, what do you think?”

“What do _I_ think? I think they’re all being hare-brained furballs, that’s what I think,” the she-cat snapped, her tail lashing behind her. “The war with TundraClan nearly destroyed us. We wouldn’t have recovered as we did if not for the loners. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“Clan blood.”

A new voice joined them, and all three of them jerked in surprise as a light brown tabby stepped into the den, the yellow sun-shaped mark evident on his forehead.

“Dawnseeker!” Willowleaf exclaimed, quickly straightening up and bowing her head low, while the other two gave the tom a respectful nod.

The Awakened acknowledged Willowleaf with a flick of his tail, then turned his hazel gaze on Flamefur. “They worry of our Ancestors.”

Flamefur huffed, though she tempered her voice when she spoke next. “The Ancestors haven’t shown their displeasure. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“A swift judgement, but an early one. The spirits have not shown their approval _or_ disapproval, yet. Whether the fresh blood shall be accepted into our family remains to be seen,” Dawnseeker pointed out, and Flamefur had nothing to say to that.

“I fear that is just an excuse,” Willowleaf said softly as Dawnseeker settled beside Flamefur. “A loner or two joining the Clans is not so unusual. But I think everyone is overwhelmed with how many of them have joined this time. Some feel as though the Clan is more loners than BoneClanners, now.”

“Three warriors to their five,” Dawnseeker said. “It would add up.”

“Well, we have three Clan-blooded kits to make up for it,” Lionstar said. “May that settle the Clan’s worries once they are old enough to join the apprentices.”

There was a long, weighted pause before Dawnseeker replied. “May it, indeed.”

Flamefur promptly got to her feet.

“Are we done here, Lionstar?” Her voice was level, but her tail still lashed in silent fury.

“Yes, I suppose we are. Let us all aim to keep everyone civil until things tide over.”

“If Rainclaw tries it one more time with me I _will_ give him another notch on his ear for his collection,” Flamefur declared, and Lionstar chuckled.

“I think I’d be inclined to forgive that.”

Outside of Lionstar’s cave, Dawnseeker excused himself with a nod of his head and left the two she-cats alone.

“You really ought to move to the nursery soon,” Willowleaf suggested gently. “Your kits are very near.” Flamefur frowned, but before she could respond Willowleaf continued. “You’re in pain, aren’t you? You’re clawing the ground.”

“Oh.” Flamefur glanced down and retracted her claws, but eventually gave a reluctant nod. “They’re getting pretty sprightly in there.”

Willowleaf laughed warmly, whiskers twitching. “Come with me. I’ll get you something to help with that.”

The medicine cat’s den sat in the hollow of a tree, and Flamefur waited outside for a short while until Willowleaf emerged from within with a herb in her mouth that she placed in front of the orange she-cat. The deputy hesitated, but finally leaned down and chewed on the herb begrudgingly.

“You don’t have to hide it, you know,” Willowleaf said when Flamefur was a few bites from finishing. “That you’re hurting.”

Flamefur’s tail twitched. “They say enough about me as it is. I don’t need them adding _weak_ to the pool of insults they’re spitting at me.”

“You are days away from having a litter, and still you’ve been keeping up with your duties every single day. There is nothing weak about that.”

Flamefur said nothing, but she wouldn’t meet Willowleaf’s gaze. The medicine cat sighed. “Well... Have you at least thought of who to name as your temporary?”

Flamefur smirked. “I don’t know. Maybe if I pick Rainclaw that would fix that stick he’s got stuck up his tailhole.”

“Oh, Flamefur, _nothing_ can fix that. Not even me and my den full of herbs.”

The two she-cats exchanged an amused glance, but soon Willowleaf’s gaze turned serious again. “Please, Flamefur? For your kits’ health, if nothing else.”

Flamefur sighed, but then a scent drifted to her nose, smokey and dark and delightfully familiar, a scent she adored so much she’d find it even if her nose stopped working. Her attention caught on a movement nearby, almost impossible to detect in the dark if not for the glint of a well-groomed coat in the moonlight.

Willowleaf was smiling again and barely suppressing a purr. “And for your mate too, so he doesn’t have to keep fussing over you, perhaps.”

Flamefur smiled, though her eyes were elsewhere. “Crowflight, not fussing? That’ll be the day.” She got to her feet and looked over her shoulder, flicking the tip of her tail under Willowleaf’s chin fondly. “I will move into the nursery.”

Willowleaf smiled. “Good.”

“Right after the dawn patrol, that is.”

“Flamefur…”

But the deputy was already gone, leaving Willowleaf to watch until her pale coat vanished under the cover of shadows and shrubs.

The brown she-cat was about to turn back to her den, when a patch of tabby and white fur caught her eye and she felt her heart skip a beat.

“Dawnseeker!” she exclaimed for the second time that night. “I’m sorry, I was just about to retire for the night-- but, um, d-do you need something?”

The tom looked at her calmly. “I will be travelling to The Skyrock to meditate,” he told her.

“Oh,” Willowleaf paused. “Don’t you usually do that on the Night of No Moon?”

“Yes,” he said, but offered no more explanation on that. “I will not be back until the next sunup.”

“I see.” The medicine cat nodded slowly. “If there’s anything you need me to do…”

The torbie shook his head. “I'll make the preparations myself. I trust you to look after the Clan in my absence.”

Willowleaf dipped her head. “Thank you, Dawnseeker. Have a safe journey, and may your star-speak go well.”

“Thank you. May the spirits grace your dreams tonight.”

Willowleaf blinked and Dawnseeker was gone as suddenly as he had appeared, his scent barely lingering to remind her he had been there at all. The she-cat sighed, cast one more look over the camp, and disappeared into her den.

* * *

Flamefur stared down at the moss-covered floor of the nursery. Cloudsky made a sad noise, but it was Willowleaf who spoke up first.

“I am so sorry, Flamefur.”

The cream-furred she-cat shook her head. “It’s not your fault.” Noticing Willowleaf’s eyes sadden as she glanced down at the dead kit, Flamefur nudged her side. “Willowleaf. You did the best that you could.”

Willowleaf looked away. “If Dawnseeker were here...”

“Then he'd be proud of the effort you made,” Flamefur said, stroking Willowleaf's fur with her tail. “He is meeting with the spirits as we speak. Perhaps he will even see her off.”

The medicine cat took a deep breath. “Alright. Do you want me to take her outside?”

Flamefur nodded. “We must bury her.”

“Will you name her?”

Flamefur paused, taking in the kitten’s dark-and-ginger skin. Surely she would have resembled Russetpelt, had she been given the chance to grow up. “Russetkit.”

The medicine cat nodded, then picked up Russetkit’s limp little body and, with one last sad glance at Flamefur, slipped out of the den.

So soon as she was gone, Flamefur let out a long sigh.

“Are you alright?”

She looked over to the other side of the den, where Cloudsky was nestled with her three kits. They looked plump and healthy.

“Yes,” Flamefur said slowly, not sure if she believed that answer herself. “I suppose I have to be.”

“I can’t imagine what you must feel like,” the white queen said, her blue eyes round with sympathy. “If I lost any one of them…” She wrapped her fluffy tail around the kits protectively.

“Maybe it was meant to be. Honestly, I don’t know how good of a mother I can be.”

“I’m sure you’ll be great,” Cloudsky replied kindly. “It grows on you, you know.”

Just then there was a loud noise outside, and soon enough someone was rushing into the nursery, splattering mud and moss around the entrance.

“Careful!” Flamefur hissed, but her expression brightened when she realised who it was. “Crowflight!”

“Flamefur,” he greeted, nuzzling his nose into her neck. She rubbed her cheek against his for a moment, before he stepped back, violet eyes flooded with concern. “I… I heard one of them..?”

“Yes,” Flamefur confirmed with an apologetic flick of her ears. “A she-kit. I named her Russetkit, but I’m sorry I had to do it without you.”

“No, don’t be. It’s a good name. Now she’s…” Crowflight hesitated.

“She is with the Ancestors,” Flamefur asserted firmly, then her eyes strayed to her own belly. “But…”

A single black kit was snuggled into her side, his tiny form as stark a contrast to her orange fur as her mate’s.

“He’s going to be okay?” Crowflight asked anxiously.

Flamefur nodded. “Willowleaf says so.”

The black tom stared at the kit for a long moment as the soft mewling of Cloudsky’s litter filled the den. Flamefur could detect traces of excitement and fear mingling with her mate’s usual scent, and she gave him a pointed look.

“Go on.”

Crowflight glanced at her once more before sliding closer and leaning down towards the kit. He pressed his muzzle into the short, soft fur, feeling the kit shudder from the coldness of his nose. The kit - his _son_ \- felt warm, his breaths small but clear, his heartbeat tiny but steady.

Crowflight purred in delight, licking the kit across its flank before straightening up to exchange a fond look with Flamefur. “I still can’t believe this,” he said, eyes shining.

“Well, you’d better believe it, because I’m not raising him by myself!” Flamefur chuckled. “Now, I expect a prompt sun-up and sun-down meal every single day, delivered right to my nest.”

“Oh yes, and get me to nurse him too while I’m at it, why don’t you?” Crowflight suggested with a playful snort.

“Hilarious,” the she-cat rolled her eyes and batted his chest with her paw.

“Have you thought of a name for him yet?” Crowflight asked after a pause, and Flamefur flicked her tail.

“I named Russetkit. Why don’t you name this one?”

“Uh…” Crowflight thought for a moment. “He sure is… black?”

“So, Blackkit?” Flamefur lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “Are we going with that?”

“Unless you’ve a better idea,” Crowflight said apologetically, and Flamefur smiled.

“BoneClanners enjoy names that interconnect,” she reminded gently. “So how about Ravenkit? Named for his pelt and after a bird, just like you.”

Crowflight looked delighted, leaning closer to nuzzle her. “Ravenkit it is.”

They took a little time to enjoy it, the act of being together without the glare of the dissenters to sour the moment for once. Flamefur yearned for this kind of peace, wanted nothing more than to keep her face pressed to Crowflight’s smooth black coat and forget the world for just a while longer.

But such things were not in her nature, and while the wishful thinking was nice for a bit, her mind soon started to stir with questions she could hold back no longer.

“How are things looking out there?”

Crowflight winced. “Runningheart is doing his best in your place, but things are mainly down to Lionstar right now. Though you’ll be pleased to know Rainclaw’s having a _very_ good time bossing everyone around whenever he gets the chance.”

Flamefur shook her head at his words, suppressing a comment.

“And…”

“And?”

“There’s a little trouble with TundraClan,” the tom admitted reluctantly.

_“What?”_ Flamefur’s fur bristled, and in the corner of her eye she could see Cloudsky’s head whip towards them.

“There’s been no battles, but they’re starting to edge their patrols past our borders at the Berry Grove. And Falconpaw had the misfortune of running into them on his hunting duty earlier today. He said they threatened to attack him.”

“They’re all foxdung, TundraClan,” Cloudsky joined in harshly. “Trust them to start another war so soon after the last. Suppose they didn’t fancy losing!”

Crowflight nodded. “Lionstar suspects they’re planning to try and get the Berry Grove again. We’re doubling up on patrols until further notice, just in case.”

“Oh, great,” Flamefur huffed, tail lashing. “Just when I’m not fit for battle.”

Crowflight’s eyes softened. “No, you’re not,” he said affectionately. “So don’t even _think_ about forcing us to let you out of here.”

“Cloudsky can take care of him for a while!” Flamefur protested.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Cloudsky mewed in amusement. “I have my paws full as it is. Besides, you must be exhausted, Flamefur. You need to let your body rest.”

“Exactly,” Crowflight was quick to agree. “We’re fine for now. Just concentrate on getting better and saving us from having to listen to any more of Rainclaw’s hare-brained orders.”

“What’s that about me?”

It was amazing, how quickly the atmosphere could shift from warm and familial to dangerously high-strung. Flamefur’s tail whirred and Crowflight’s pelt bristled as the brown tabby tom emerged from the nursery entrance. Even Cloudsky tensed in her nest as the other three glared between each other.

Rainclaw’s green gaze swept over the couple, and soon landed on Ravenkit. “All went perfectly well with the birth, I hear,” he commented, and Flamefur hissed at him.

“What do you want?” Crowflight asked lowly.

“I came to spend some time with my kits, obviously!” the tom exclaimed, chin lifted high. “Or do you have a problem with that, loner?”

Cloudsky looked irritated. “If you’ve come to spend time with them, then you’d better quieten down,” she told him. “You’re disturbing them.”

It was painfully obvious Rainclaw had more to say, but he somehow managed to keep his maw shut, shooting one last spiteful glare towards Flamefur and Crowflight before settling in close to the white queen.

Flamefur, tired and wrung up, was in the mood to give the spotted tabby a roasting the likes of which even Russetpelt couldn’t have come up with in his kithood, but before she could let her temper take over, she felt the brush of a soft tail over her flank.

She looked to see Crowflight giving her a look, and the tom shook his head. _It’s not worth it_ , he was saying, and while Flamefur knew he was right, this was the one thing that infuriated her beyond anything else. She had no idea how the black tom managed to stay cool-headed about it, but she told herself to take from his example and with a deep breath, she turned her attention away from Rainclaw and his Clan-blooded litter.

“I’d better get going,” Crowflight murmured to her. “The moonhigh patrol is approaching. And we need to get some hunting done afterwards, too.”

Flamefur sighed. “Yes… I suppose you’d better.”

He smiled at her. “You’ll be back out there in no time. I look forward to it.”

“I do as well,” she admitted, and they bumped heads and nuzzled one more time before Crowflight slinked out of the den.

Flamefur turned her eyes to that little lump of fur by her belly, blind and deaf and helpless and _alive_ , so alive as he squirmed and cried and hiccuped, dirtying his little face with her milk. She watched him cry out in protest as the milk dripped into his nose - how infinitely clumsy he was, how imperfect!

She loved him with all her heart. She leaned down to clean him, and then let his sweet newborn scent lull her into a long-needed sleep.

When the cry of alarm resounded around the camp, Flamefur was deep in a dream, and she dreamed of a warm white light, black fur and milk.


	3. MistClan

* * *

_Kittypet. They whispered the word_ as though she couldn’t hear it. She indulged their fantasies, the same way she knew Morningbliss indulged Spiderstep’s advances when really her heart yearned only for Kestrelsong. 

Oh yes, Aurorapaw was more aware than they gave her credit for. Her thoughts often lost her on long trails of their own accord, but she had a pair of eyes and ears and a nose all the same, all tinted blue against the rest of her cream fur and they didn’t like that. Not how soft her fur was still, how her markings set her apart from the dappled and striped furs of wildcats.

But their words were those of a minority. And if Morningbliss could curb her feelings enough to bear the Clan Spiderstep’s litter, then Aurorapaw could pacify that little mutter in her own heart that still told her to deny the word, reject it.

She wouldn’t. And if she ever did, it would be on her own terms, and not because they had pressured her to.

“Up again?”

Aurorapaw glanced over her shoulder, spotting the silver-white pelt of her friend.

“As are you,” she replied, facing forward again as Shimmerpaw sat down beside her on the cliff edge.

“Are you out here trying to be like Nightwalker again?”

Her tail flicked across his back in warning. He laughed under his nose, but said nothing, and then both their eyes were on the view before them.

The stars looked beautiful from up here. Aurorapaw could never understand how the other Clans managed to live so far from it, so buried under the trees and shrubs while the sky hid from their sight. To her, it seemed as if the stars demanded to be seen. Stretching in great belts of silver and white, as if daring them all to try and not appreciate their presence. Who would ever reject such a gift?

“Do you think my mother is happy, now?”

Her own voice surprised her. It felt like a moment of weakness, that she had let it escape.

She felt Shimmerpaw shift to look at her - realised in that moment he had been staring _down_ at the valley below the mountain - but she kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. “She’s got to be. She got what she wanted, didn’t she?”

“And will I ever get what I want?”

“And what do you want, Aurorapaw?”

The she-cat finally turned and gave him a long stare. He frowned. “Look, I think Nightwalker is just being cautious. I mean, there’s no guarantee that… You know.”

“That I will be accepted? That my mother might never walk the stars, and so the Ancestors will reject me?”

Shimmerpaw winced. “Okay, sorry. I didn’t want to say anything like that.”

“Well, you’d be right if you had. I can tell what everyone is thinking,” Aurorapaw said and Shimmerpaw fell silent.

Several long moments passed before the tom got to his feet. “Well, I’d better at least _try_ to get some sleep,” he announced. “Don’t want Spiderstep lecturing me again about how dangerous it is to walk the mountains when tired. Might slip and fall and break my spine and then the whole Clan will be mad over having to go all the way to the Spirit Tree just because of my foolish refusal to get some proper rest.”

Aurorapaw lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve heard this one a lot, haven’t you?”

“Memorised it by heart,” Shimmerpaw grinned and Aurorapaw shook her head, fixing her gaze on the sky again.

As he turned to walk away, she softly said: “I know things plague you at night, Shimmerpaw.”

The tom stopped.

She could feel it, that momentary shadow clouding his heart before he swiftly swept it away. “We’re all plagued by something, Aurorapaw. Don’t single me out for it.”

Before she could say any more, she heard his soft footfalls fade away behind her, and she closed her eyes.

How she wished for it, for that connection with the Ancestors. To let her spirit merge with theirs, unite with them in the light, their wisdom bestowed upon her. To not only be aware, but to _know_ , know how to help herself and her friend and all of her Clan besides.

When Aurorapaw opened her eyes, there was a pair of silver eyes before her. No, not eyes. They were stars. Perfectly glittering as though someone had stolen them from the sky and placed them right before her; or else, as though she had ascended up towards them herself, close enough that she could reach out her paw and touch them.

There were more, too. More stars, a whole collection of them formed in the shape of a cat, large and graceful and standing across the cliffside from her on nothing but empty air.

Those star-eyes met hers, the light of innumerable lifetimes behind them.

_Do not let them walk the path of ruin._

Aurorapaw’s eyes never left the star-cat as she stepped forward - when had she gotten up? - and then, then she was falling, wind rippling through her fur as she plummeted down, _down_ \- but her head was tilted up and she did not let the stars out of her sight until her vision turned to a complete and utter black.

When she opened her eyes again, there was a great pain in her legs and she felt fangs around her flank. She wasted no time, wrangling with whatever was holding her and springing to her feet despite the pain.

“What are you doing?! You’re wounded! Don’t move!” Someone hissed by her ear, but she had already scented the aroma of herbs and berries up ahead and yes, of course, the medicine cat’s den, that’s where she needed to go.

She’d barely made it to the entrance when something shifted from within and Echodream rushed out to meet her, wide-eyed. “What’s going on?”

Her white fur roughed up and covered in dirt, two of her legs bent awkwardly and blood leaking down from her scratched-up face, Aurorapaw said: “The stars speak to me.”

And then she was falling again.


	4. SeaClan

* * *

_“I’ve told you so many_ times to stop coming out here by yourself!” Sootstripe hissed, watching as the smoke tabby tom shook his coat and flicked his ears, droplets of water splaying on the beach. He walked a little further, enough to get his paws out of the shallows, and then settled down and started to brush his coat.

Sootstripe walked right up to him with a scowl. “Are you even listening to me?” she asked loudly.

Rainwhisperer looked up at her with great unconcern. “My ears are still fully functional, thank you.”

The deputy narrowed her eyes at him. “So? Did the Ancestors speak to you?”

“A great number of times since I’ve been apprenticed, yes.”

He was infuriating, but Sootstripe didn’t have it in her to get properly cross with the tom. In the slowly edging dawn, she could see grey hairs sprouting around his face as he resumed his bath, evidently intent on not telling her what, if anything, had transpired beneath the waters of the Diving Depths.

But as the sun continued to peek out above the horizon and she made no move to leave, Rainwhisperer stopped suddenly and glared at her. “I’m perfectly capable of returning to the camp by myself,” he declared.

Sootstripe smirked. “I think I’ll do you the favour of escorting you. Just in case your fragile old bones can’t handle the trip.”

The small tom stared at her with heavily lifted brows. “Then perhaps next time I shall do you the favour of praying to the Ancestors to let Sandcloud open up his heart to your affection.”

“What?” Sootstripe blanched, the black fur on her spine rising. “I-- I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And neither would he, so I suppose you are doing a poor job of pursuing him.”

“I am doing no such thing!” The she-cat looked at Rainwhisperer with disbelief before whipping around. “This conversation is over.”

“Most blessed,” the old tom muttered as she stalked up the beach, leaving him to watch the rising dawn by himself.

Sootstripe had been so busy brooding on her way back to the camp that she barely noticed the enlivened atmosphere and nearly ran headfirst into a pale-furred cat in her path to the den.

“Sootstripe. What’s wrong?”

The she-cat looked up to be met with her leader’s green eyes, and she blinked herself out of her thoughts. “Oh, nothing. Rainwhisperer,” she offered with a grimace as an explanation, which seemed to amuse Dewstar.

“I see.”

“Anyway, has the dawn patrol been sent out yet?” Sootstripe asked, eager for a distraction.

“Goldenpetal is leading it,” Dewstar confirmed.

“Great. Let me get the fishing party set up, then.”

“Before you do that, I think you ought to know: Lilypond’s kits have been born in the night,” Dewstar told her, and Sootstripe’s mouth flew open.

“What? Already?”

The leader nodded solemnly. “More accurately, a single kit was born. He’s early, but Wavesong says his life is not in danger.”

The deputy sighed in relief.

“I am on my way to meet him,” Dewstar continued, glancing towards the nursery: a sandy den hidden beneath a thick clump of lush vegetation in the corner of their camp. “Would you like to accompany me?”

“Alright,” Sootstripe agreed, and the two cats easily fell into step beside each other.

As they approached the entrance, two voices resounded from within the nursery.

“I just don’t understand. How did this happen?”

“You’re not upset over this, are you? You should be happy he’s healthy!”

Dewstar and Sootstripe exchanged a look, before both of them dove into den one after the other.

“Oh!” Lilypond was curled up at the far end of the den, her mate sat beside her. “Dewstar, Sootstripe. Thank you both for coming.”

“How are you, Lilypond?” Dewstar asked kindly, walking up to her with Sootstripe following close behind.

“I’m okay, everything is fine. It’s just that…”

Everyone followed her gaze to the kit at her belly. Not that he was hard to spot, his bright pelt standing out against Lilypond’s white fur.

Sootstripe tilted her head, her gaze wandering up to Sunstreak. His pelt was that of the sand during the greenleaf sunhigh, but his son’s fur was a deep, demanding red, drawing the eye like a burning flame.

“It is an unusual colour for our Clan, I admit,” Dewstar mewed eventually. “But I don’t think it will pose us any problems.”

Sunstreak mumbled something unintelligible under his nose, and Lilypond glanced at Sootstripe for support. The deputy offered a shrug - she really didn’t see what the big deal was.

“What’re you going to name him, then?” she asked instead, and Lilypond chuckled.

“I think I have the perfect name in mind.”


	5. TundraClan

* * *

_“_ _Finally your time, eh?” Raggedwind_ grinned up at Adderpelt, treating her to the view of several black patches in his mouth where his teeth were missing.

“Don’t make me bite your _other_ ear off on the very first day,” she spat back none too nicely, and the tom huffed out a laugh.

Adderpelt dropped some moss and dried grass to one side of the burrow, kneading it with her scarred paws to make a nest.

“You should get the apprentices to do that,” Heavyfeet commented from where he was lying next to Raggedwind, his large paws stretched comfortably in front of him.

Adderpelt let out an annoyed growl. “I don’t need those furballs following me around everywhere. I’d only just gotten rid of them.”

“Humph! Smokewind is going to spoil that Drypaw of yours. He’s too soft for his own good,” Raggedwind said with a frown. “Especially since he’s had kits of his own.”

“Or maybe _you’re_ just too ill-tempered with the apprentices,” Heavyfeet suggested.

“Ill-tempered? I’m just making sure they’re ready for the world! They haven’t seen anything yet. It’s a dirthole out there.”

Heavyfeet looked unconvinced. “Just let them breathe sometimes, would you?”

“Don’t _you_ be going soft on me too, you old rat,” Raggedwind purred, his tail lashing against Heavyfeet, which the tabby followed up with an affectionate lick on the black tom’s fluffy chest.

Adderpelt gagged. “If you two make me watch you _cuddle_ all day, I’m going to claw _both_ your ears off.”

“Just you try it! This old cat’s still got it!” Raggedwind cackled, and was likely to taunt the she-cat some more when all of them scented someone climbing down into the burrow. Raggedwind looked pleased even before the cat emerged into view, and called out: “Deerskip, welcome! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The little fawn she-cat gave them all a timid nod. “Hello. I am just coming in to check in on you all,” she said quietly, blue eyes moving towards the brown tabby. “Are you settling in alright, Adderpelt?”

Adderpelt was still in the middle of making her nest, and her tail flicked in annoyance. “It’s not even sunhigh yet, and you’re all chasing after me like I’m about to flop over and skip on my merry way to the Ancestors!” she grouched, casting a single-eyed glare at the deputy. “I’m _fine_.”

“She’s loving it down here with us,” Raggedwind confirmed wickedly, and Adderpelt looked at Deerskip again.

“I changed my mind. I’m not fine. Get me away from these two.”

Deerskip’s whiskers twitched, but she kept her expression neutral as she answered. “I’m glad you’re all getting along.”

“Hardly.”

“We’re fine, Deerskip,” Heavyfeet interjected before another argument could begin. “But Adderpelt is right. There’s no need for you to be down here. You must have more important things to worry about.”

“She’s just trying to get away from Weaselstar, Heavyfeet. Give her a break,” Ruggedwind chortled.

Deerskip dipped her head again. “If all is well, then I’ll excuse myself. I’ll make sure you all get your sunup meal soon.”

The deputy was gone in a dash, to the tune of Adderpelt’s angry voice letting her know she can get her meal herself, thank you very much!

“See, you all scared her off,” Raggedwind shook his head. “Poor thing.”

Heavyfeet gave his mate a sceptic look. “Who’s that going soft again?”

“Bah! She reminds me of Tinywhisker.”

Heavyfeet looked surprised, before nodding with reservation. “I see.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, you fleabag, I still love you the most. And anyway-- Spirits, Adderpelt, we get it! Stop that before you actually cough something up in the den.”

Adderpelt did stop that, only to sigh down at her nest in frustration. For all her efforts, it still needed several more layers of grass to be comfortable, and her muscles were beginning to ache from the effort. Ancestors, she really _was_ getting old.

But the tabby was not granted the chance to reflect fully upon the misery of aging, for soon enough two lumps of silver fur were filling up the den, along with the scent of freshkill.

“Took you long enough!” Raggedwind barked as one of the apprentices, Crosspaw, hurried to place a sizable hare before him and Heavyfeet.

“I’m sorry, we had the dawn patrol duty…” Crosspaw mumbled and Raggedwind fixed him with a heavy look.

“So you’re saying you couldn’t find a moment to think of your elders when you got up this morning? Eh? Too _busy_ for us? _Eh?_ ”

While Crosspaw was being scolded, Crystalpaw took a sheepish step towards Adderpelt, her mouth filled with something that did not resemble freshkill in the slightest.

“What are you doing?” Adderpelt asked as Crystalpaw spat out the dried grass and moss on the floor.

“Deerskip said to assist with your nest,” the she-cat explained nervously. “I’ll bring you your meal right after I’m done.”

Adderpelt looked between the apprentice and the moss several times, before grudgingly stepping aside.

“Sodding younglings, think they’ve got it all figured out,” Adderpelt grumbled under her nose as Crystalpaw kneaded her nest into shape, but there was the slightest hint of a smile on the old she-cat’s maw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would mark the final of the "set-up" chapters. I apologise for how long it took just to get past the exposition, but I hope I was able to give you some ideas of how things look for each Clan right now. From now on however, we shall follow the perspective of our protagonists - and may the spirits be with us on this journey!


End file.
